SHAOLIN FOOTBALL
Just like football I am well-rounded,
Bald, and a black-and-white character.
I allow myself to be kicked around by others,
Perhaps too much.
Occasionally I end up in a tangle
In a net, a trap, into which
Others have put me - my own silly fault.
I should be more assertive,
And not just sit there on the spot,
Like a victim awaiting execution,
While others take a run and kick me.
Seems to me that life is just one long game,
With puffed-up winners and dejected losers,
But when the whistle blows and time has run out,
I feel no victory or loss,
For I am a Shaolin football
And I sleep easy.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Written for kristen bruni's Contest "Football"
Just like football I am a crowd pleaser
I got fans cheering me on up and down the field
My cleats stay unknown to the ground
Because they never met
No, the cleats are too fast to stay in one spot
But if the ground met my cleats, I would retire
Many years from now could that be possible
In this moment, I hear people scream aloud my name
I'm in this to win it
I play it to take it, to be it, I am it
The uniform number five
The spotlights shinning on me
I know what it feels like to be above ground
Body in the air, Ball in my grip
Split seconds till I pass that zero yard mark
Score board even screams out my name
Lovely victory knows me and my fans well
So where were you at my game?
O' me favorite sport must be drinkin.'
That's the way that God made me I'm thinkin.'
For it seems without fail,
If I start quaffin' ale,
That the landlord will send me home stinkin.'
I'm the rookie of the century, doing something new for your eyes to behold.
Whether I'm locked up in a cage or outside looking at the rain.
Am I really something to stare upon? You answer that and please keep it to yourself.
While I set the stage, my enemies crumble, imagine once I start turning up the heat!
I'm like Doc Gooden in his first Major League season.
Fresher than febreze, I'm never sweating.
What a lie but all the guys branded me as the lion of the group.
What can I say, it was unexpected for me to be so phenomenal or am I just a
natural-born-pitcher?
Maybe it's my three-point shots that's got everyone in a haze.
I can't tell what the coaches think about me or my attitude.
High School's a drag but one thing's for sure: I'm the pride of my school.
They call me the Viper because you never know when I'ma strike gold.
I can never stop writing, it's just who I am.
Whether they call me the Viper, a Beast, a Monster, or just by my real name, I'm sure as
Heaven keeping my head high.
The talent of this England team
Will overcome the rest
Because the players on display
Are simply the best.
James our keeper will save every shot
He's experienced and so cool
Glen Johnson and Ashley Cole
The defence they both will rule.
John Terry solid as a rock
With King at his side
While Lennon and Joe Cole
Control the play out wide.
The creative skill of Lampard
And captain Gerrard too
Will create a hole in any defence
No matter what they do.
Peter Crouch up front is so tall
He reminds me of a Giraffe
When he scores and does that dance
He really makes me laugh.
Wayne Rooney wow what can I say
The best of the best
He's like a little bulldog
With three lions on his chest.
Our manager Fabio Capello
A master of the game
If we don't bring back the cup
We're only ourselves to blame.
To place a team above your job,
Then from your children you rob.
Makes me angry, and want to sob
Makes me think you are a slob.
I do not judge any person at all.
I do speak of what I saw.
From out of his mouth, he did say,
My children, I will make them pay.
For something that was given to you,
Let them learn the way I do.
Football, basketball season tickets, I get.
I will call off from work, upon game set.
He is a die-hard fan; his living is past,
Not earning a living, he will still cast.
This is probably not what the contest is about but i had to write this to get it out of my
system, I do know of someone that feels his team and sports is beyond everything else in
his life,,to me that is "Sports Mad" anyway I had to get this out or I would probably go
insane,
Sports Make Me Mad
Sports make me mad.
because they stole my dad.
We went to school.
and learned the golden rule.
Dad went to work.
Free golf was just one perk.
Loved weekends rare…
He was golfing here…there.
Home after school
Enough time for a duel…
Oh, no not hugs.
Got to work out the bugs.
Improve the swing.
Head down, arms right…those things.
Golf or football…
Spring! Summer! Winter! Fall!
He played them all.
Oh, he gave up baseball.
Playing that is.
Sports engrossed; his business.
Sports stole my dad.
These days, he knows me not.
It is too bad.
What fun we could have had.
And that is sad.
Why is it you never show me your face?
My feelings are hurt, so you I’ll replace!
Find another on which to pounce
Each time your team takes a bad bounce
The damage you’ve done cannot be erased
Even my fine leather is marred with grooves
From all your fanatic football fan moves
Get off your duff, I must rebuff
You’ve made my lining far too rough
Each time you move, I hope the team will lose
I have already called a moving van
To transport me to a gentler land
Where people of grace sip green tea
Pontificating times that be
By dawn in my place you’ll find the trash can
I practice with the boys
The dirty filthy boys
The cute funny boys
My new soccer team
I had to play
No matter what
I guess this hadn't
Occurred to me
I practice with the boys
The smelly annoying boys
The fast strong boys
They accept me
As one of them
Play, laugh, slide tackle
Together at practice
In a team huddle
I practice with the boys
The pushy uptight boys
The sweet friendly boys
We cram into cars
On cold nights
We carpool to games
We spend four nights a week
Together
I practice with the boys
The mean jerky boys
The nice hot boys
I get cold
They give me a jacket
I hurt myself
They carry me off the field
I get tired
They give me a shoulder to lean on
I play with the boys
The best friends I could ask for